The next 10 days are a bit of a blur but I will attempt to recall the main features of this period of time between the shock of the first diagnosis and the fear of the analysis of the cells a week and a half later.
Having arrived back at the house and having had a good cry with my cousin Christopher, we sat in my patio as the weather was still very warm in September and I tried to think.
My first thought was “How am I going to tell Aimi?”, the second “How am I going to tell Mia?”. The suggestion that I should wait for 10 days for the results before I said anything was not an option. Even if I had kept quiet, I would be hopeless at concealing my mood and Aimi would have known that something was terribly wrong. I decided to tell her that evening after work and I phoned her and said that it was nothing to worry about but I needed to tell her something and I would be over at 6pm.
Aimi took the news calmly and we both said lots of positive things to each other but neither were really convinced that there was nothing to worry about. She put her arms round me when I was leaving and gave me a hug. That hadn’t happened for a while and it felt good. After I left, I knew there would be a few tears.
I was due to go out for dinner with Chris and Lisa, his lady, to the Blue Elephant Thai restaurant in Fulham that night and was talked into keeping the date. Chris and Lisa were wonderfully supportive and boosted me up between tearful phases. I had been so looking forward to going back to Majorca with them and had my suitcase packed and ready. Now I knew this would now be out of the question and I felt terribly sad about it.
I don’t remember much about the next two days except that I have never felt fear like it before. I was in a panic state from the moment I opened my eyes to the moment I was able to finally sleep. Getting out of bed in the morning was almost impossible – so was lying there contemplating my fate. It dawned on me that I would not be able to work for quite a while. Whilst I could probably scrape by without my photography income, I was gripped with the fear that my lettings income would dry up to as who would want to come and rent a room in a house with someone who was ill and couldn’t cope? That fear lead to the next horror thought. If the lettings dry up as well, how will I pay the mortgage? How will I live? A large chunk of my savings had gone on Aimi’s wedding. I then envisaged the scenario of having to sell my house whilst battling this illness; everything being cut off, and the depression that would be sure to descend on me.
I spent most of the days that followed on the phone to people closest to me.
My cousin Irene, a very talented artist, had had a lumpectomy with radiotherapy a couple of years ago was amazingly wonderful and said she would come down from Penryth and go to the Marsden with me and Aimi to hear the results. She would bring a notebook and write it all down for me. She gave me a list of questions to ask the surgeon and tried to calm me down.
My dear friend Sue Coles who had been a tower of strength during Aimi’s wedding, came straight over to support me that first afternoon. She is a friend of the Haven Breast cancer charity in Fulham and raises money for their wonderful work.
Sue, I believe has called me every day since to see if I was ok and to offer support and practical help and Chilli Pepper her PAT (Pets as therapy) healing dog always cheers me up.
Connie Callander, my word game and rude email mate had sent me a beautiful email (for a change!) It was a Kinkade flowing water picture which she noted was very soothing and I replied
“Need soothing right now Connie. Have got a lump in my boob which is not good. Going to get treatment options on Friday. Say a prayer for me. Sylvan”. Connie emailed straight back with cheerful support and strength.
“I promise you... all will be well... they are right on top of lumps in the breast now....as the owner of several lumps I know this and more than a few of my friends, also people you know J R and C B...have had various treatments... all with success.....so you, I know, will not be any different....However on you instructions I will say a prayer for you. If I didn't have a 99 year dependent on me I would be there with you on Friday.....we could have lunch, get tipsy, flirt a little and buy some outrageous clothes....alas I can only be with you in thought. Don't worry I know all will be well.
ps will continue to send funny stuff because I know all will be well.
Connie also looked up my surgeon, Mr Gui, for me on the internet and sent his details to me in a link. I immediately liked what I saw in his face and eyes, and good vibes came through. There was no need for a second opinion. I intuitively knew I could trust this man and that I was in the best possible hands and would accept gratefully his experience and skills.
As news spread amongst my friends, phone calls started to come in. Everyone it seemed had a story to tell me about a friend who had beaten cancer and was now feeling fine. “Will I ever be happy again?” I wailed. “Of course you will” they said. Christopher put a picture of me happy and laughing in Spain on my table to remind me that I would be like this again. I was quite overwhelmed with the amount of love and support shown to me by my friends. Bouquets of flowers began to arrive and cards with loving messages in them. People arrived with plants and bath oils and books came in the post for me to read whilst I recovered.
Sleeping and getting out of bed were the main problems during this period that, everyone who had experienced the same, said would be the worst bit. As a reformed drinker and off the sauce for the past 22 years, the balm of alcohol was not an option. Neither were sleeping pills that I as an addictive person could not take. The only thing I had to calm me was Tranquillity tea, deep breathing and a Buddhist chant that I learned during a previous period of depression “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” I chanted over and over to clear my mind as I tried to sleep with the horses hoof pressing on my solar plexus and a brain fizzing with fear.
One morning, just before I woke up I heard a higher voice within me say “Do you want to live?" And I heard my little voice saying “Yes”. I decided to fight.
After my 9.00 cuppa and morning chat with Christopher (who was now fortuitously renting my loft studio) sitting on my bed, I got out my emergency collection of self help books. The first one I dived into was “Self Help for Your Nerves” by Dr Claire Weekes. In my opinion this is one of the best books ever written on panic attacks and nervous sufferings. It had helped me on many occasions in the past. “Face, Accept & Float past panic” she advised. 22 years ago I had been through a terrifying anxiety state with daily panic attacks that I had lived in fear of. Instead of trying to push away the waves of panic, Dorothy advised me to sit in a chair, relax to the best of my ability and try to ‘increase’ the feelings of panic. This was almost impossible to contemplate; however, when I finally managed to do it, a strange thing happened. The panic did not get worse, in fact, I suddenly found myself thinking of other things and that was the way ahead.
Acceptance. “God Grant me the Serenity to Accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can and the Wisdom to know the difference”
Well I could not change the fact that I had cancer so I would have to accept that. What things could I change?
I decided to change my words. “I am well”, I said out loud, “I am strong”, “I can handle it”. “I have limitless courage” “Thank You for my complete healing” (thank you Caroline Upton for the latter two) These words gave me a little strength and I started to put one foot in front of the other and get through the day as best I could even though I felt I was walking through treacle and it was hard to breathe as my chest muscles were so tight. I decided to do the basic things no matter how I was feeling Getting out of bed; having a bath; eating; little walks; a little work in hand; and I read my spiritual daily reading books and talked to friends. All these things ‘helped’ but didn’t take away the pain.
At night I pretended that this terrible grey strangulating feeling in my heart and chest was my strength. I said to the pain – this is how strong my strength is. This is my courage, a few sips of tranquillity tea, deep breathing and the Budhist mantra. I reminded myself of what Claire Weekes had said “these terrifying feelings have no medical significance” and “Let time pass”. I put my arms round my pillow, and sleep would eventually come.
The next person to tell was my eight year old granddaughter Mia. This was especially difficult because she had been through a phase of worrying about me getting old and dying. “That’s not going to happen for a very, very long time, I had always reassured her”. I went round to Aimi’s flat and, as luck would have it, Kylie Minogue's positive and uplifting interview post cancer had been recorded by her on Sky Plus. We decided to watch it together with Mia. Kylie looked very pretty and very well and happy and after it was over, I took Mia into the bedroom and sat on the bed and said “You know that programme we just watched? Well it’s nothing to worry about, but I have got the same thing as Kylie” “Breast cancer?” Mia said “Yes” I said, “I’ve got to have some unpleasant treatment, but I will be fine afterwards just like Kylie – you mustn’t worry ok?” “OK” she said. We went back to Aimi and Mia needed a hug and some tears came. “Mama is going to be fine” Aimi said and we both tried to be cheerful.
On the Saturday after diagnosis, my Saturday night movie girls, Sue and Maureen took me to a film called Volver which was a film about survival which was designed to take my mind off things. It was a good film and I might have enjoyed it, but as it turned out one of the characters unfortunately developed terminal cancer and there were several death bed scenes! Just what I needed – even the ads were all about being kind to your boobs because one day they might not be there. I could feel Sue and Maureen’s discomfort on my behalf but it wasn’t their fault and I squirmed through the rest of the movie.
I said some serious prayers that week and asked for courage. And they were answered. The next book which was already heavily highlighted all the way through from a previous ‘growth period’ was my worn copy of “Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway” This book too talks about
accepting the feelings and taking action and moving ahead in spite of being sh..t scared and out of one's comfort zone. Boy was I out of it!
The next person I had to tell was my old Auntie Amy now 98 and a half and living in St Luke’s nursing home near Oxford. She is my last remaining
Aunt and a very special one and I didn’t want her to hear it from anyone else. When I am very frightened all my energy seems to go and everything normally done with ease seems heavy and difficult, but somehow I made the drive to Headington and broke the news gently to Amy. Tears came to her beautiful blue eyes and rolled down her cheeks. I reassured her that everything was going to be alright and all she had to do was concentrate on getting to 100 and I would be there to throw the party! I would be out of action for a bit but whenever I was well enough I would come and play scabble with her and hopefully beat her – she usually wins! She is quite frail on her legs but her mind is a sharp as ever, having been head librarian to the Home Office and awarded an MBE for it. She would win the weakest link if she were fit enough to get there. Her parting words of wisdom on that Wednesday were “Let it Happen” and “Count your mercies” which were two of the phrases that kept me going along with countless others that friends passed on to me.
That evening I felt calm for the first time in 5 days.
The hardest day of all was Thursday September 14th. The day before the appointment for the results of the core biopsy which I was being dragged towards. I unpacked the suitcase that had been waiting to go back to Spain and surrendered to the pain of that abandoned plan.
Then everything that could possibly go wrong in my house did so. “How could this be happening now?” I railed at “Good Orderly Direction” (GOD). One of my electricity circuits started tripping off. Only the most essential items in the house happened to be on it! They were the central heating; the phones; the computer; the television; the kettle; the fridge; the freezer; the washing machine; the dryer. You name it and it was gone. At first it had been tripping off once a day and could be put right immediately with a trip (pun) to the basement to push in the button that had popped out. This would restore everything to normal again. But by Thursday, it was tripping out every 2 hours including during the night. Every time it did this, the phone would make a gurgle as it switched off and I would wake up and go down to the basement to re-set it as the tenants, who I was sure would abandon me once they knew about my diagnosis, must have hot water to wash in, and I couldn’t let the fridge and freezer go off. An electrician had been and had not been able to locate the fault. One by one I went through the process of elimination with each piece of plugged in equipment, by unplugging it and seeing if the thing tripped without it thereby, hopefully, I would identify the faulty item. No such luck, with practically everything unplugged in the whole area, it still tripped off and I was despairing of ever finding a solution. That afternoon Mia and her friend Anna Mae came back after school and were amusing themselves running about in and out of the kitchen. There was a loud bang. “Mama, something’s wrong with the cupboard door”. I went through to the kitchen to find the cupboard door over the kettle (which wasn't working) hanging off and about to fall. Two minutes later, another crash, and a forlorn looking Mia came in to tell me that she had used my little blue painted bench
in the patio as a “stage” and one of the slats had broken in two. There was now a gaping hole in my bench and I was planning to find comfort sitting there when recovering from my operation. This was my very lowest point. I felt I was descending into chaos and I shook my fists at Good Orderly Direction. I sat with my head in my hands for about five minutes but there was nowhere to go. Somehow I stumbled into the kitchen and found a screwdriver and decided to tackle the cupboard door. As luck would have it, a screw had simply come lose from the inside hinge bracket thing and after manipulating the door back into position, I was able to screw it back in and the door was mended. Next I tackled the bench. I was able to unscrew the back slat and move it forward so that at least there was an area for my bottom to sit on without a gap. However there was now a big gap at the back and it still looked broken. Something made me go and look for something in the basement that I would be able to use to stick or tie the two pieces of wood together. Miraculously, I came across a piece of wood that was the exact length and width of t
he broken slat and with some nails which I removed from telephone cable holders, I managed to make a splint for the broken slat; hammered in the nails all along its length; turned it over and screwed it back in to the back of the bench which was now restored. Hallellullia that felt good. Then came a voice from 'upstairs again'. “Things can be fixed” it said, and I knew now that this was a message and yes, things could be fixed – cancer too!
Irene arrived that evening and we had supper together in the kitchen. It felt good to be with someone who had been through this and out the other end and I had a good evening and that night, for the first time since diagnosis I slept well.
Ten day Terror suggested resources:
‘Self Help for you Nerves’or any books by Dr Claire Weekes (35 used and new from £3 on Amazon at current date)
‘Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway” by Susan Jeffers (plenty on Amazon)
‘You Are the Key’ - Sean de Warren (8 available on Amazon at date of posting)
"Each Day a New Beginning" Hazleden (new or used Amazon)
Talk Talk line rental Free, yes absolutely FREE local and national phone
calls to landlines for £20 per month–includes free International calls to landlines including Europe and USA & Canada. You dial a 5 digit prefix and can talk for 69 minutes absolutely free. If you want more time than this, you hang up and dial again for another 69 minutes.
Friends and Family – you can’t have enough of them. Write down the phone numbers, email address etc in a book of all those who have offered support and use them – they want to help. Be with people as much as you can. Don’t isolate.
Tranquility tea, Camomile tea, Fennel tea etc. If you can’t take alcohol or sedatives (lucky you, if you can! – “count your mercies”).
Make a list of what has to be done per day to refer to and do it. i.e Get out of bed, bath, dress, eat, walk, one piece of work etc.
Be careful what films you watch
Start to look gently on the internet for information about your surgeon and breast cancer This will take courage at first.
Pray for Courage God Grant me the Serenity to Accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference. (AA)
Chant "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo"
Affirmations “I AM strong” “I AM well” “I CAN handle it” “I HAVE limitless courage” “THANKYOU for this gift"
Barry - my ex, came to see me in hospital the day after my operation. He sat by my bed in tears having read my little book of condolences (nice things written by kind friends) that Avril had given me. We hadn't spoken for several years but he had been kind enough to phone me and send flowers after diagnosis, and I was pleased to see him.
